


The Ancient Magus' Bride

by auspicium (latenightfangirl)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, 魔法使いの嫁 | Mahou Tsukai no Yome | The Ancient Magus Bride
Genre: All the characters are replaced with Harry Potter characters, Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/M, Familiars, Female Harry Potter, Harry is Chise, Magic, Marriage, More tags to be added, Multi, Romance, Slytherin's Locket, Some elements are combined, The Ancient Magus Bride au, Voldemort is Elias
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2018-12-03 10:25:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11530287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/latenightfangirl/pseuds/auspicium
Summary: It was in a grand room, dressed in blacks and reds, that the auction was held.There were many seats, each taken by a masked buyer, and each looked on in curiosity as the next auction was brought out. The velvet curtains were pulled back, and the spotlight turned on, illuminating the dark which had settled over the stage. In the light was a figure, their wrists bound together by two metal cuffs, a chain connecting them to the shackle around their neck. A white veil was settled over their head, but chin length, bright red hair could be seen peeking out.“The merchandise in today’s auction is quite rare,” announced the auctioneer, and quite a few of the participants gasped or muttered under their breath. For it was today, a Slay Vega was to be sold.A Slay Vega, dearest child of the night… a wizard’s blessing.“Starting from 100!”(rewritten)





	1. April Showers Bring May Flowers

_Behind the thick veil, on the other side of the dowdy wall, the trees are obscured by mist. That world breathes right next to ours._

“Your payment,” said the tall man. He was nearly twice as tall as Holly, who reached just over five feet. His fingers were long too, and pallid and thin; her mother would have called them piano fingers, but Holly was reminded more of Birch twigs – sticklike and eerily white. “Five hundred thousand Galleons,” he finished, in his whisper-soft voice. His Birch fingers dropped the last of the heavy gold coins onto the pile, then receded back into his black cloak.

Mister Grindelwald accepted the payment, thumbing a coin. “Fifteen years old, British Halfblood. Not that it matters, of course, seeing as it is a Slay Vega,” he said. “It should be easily trainable, as it has not shown aggression so far.” Mister Grindelwald looked to her mysterious buyer with an unreadable expression, his blue eyes cold as ice.

“I had not expected someone such as yourself to show up today,” he said casually. Placing the coin – a Galleon, noted Holly – down, he crossed right leg over the other. “Despite your… affluential status, you cannot repeat what occurred today…” Mister Grindelwald shook his head, muttering under his breath. “Suddenly coming on stage…”

“I do not need you scolding me,” her buyer suddenly said. His tone was biting and low. How could he sound so threatening with but a whisper? His attention was suddenly turned on her, and Holly’s head fell. “You, come here,” he commanded. Holly was too slow for his liking, and he decided to tug on her chain, pulling her towards him. His face was suddenly right before hers, and Holly saw what she couldn’t before.

Beneath his hood, the man’s face was just as pale as his hands. His eyes were a scorching red, lit like embers in a roaring fire, and slit like a predator’s. The place where his nose should have been was flat with two slits for nostrils, and Holly saw them flutter with his breath. She should have been scared, terrified, but…

“There is no need to look down. Straighten your back and look forward. Am I understood?”

“…Yes.”

When the door had shut behind them, Igor Karkaroff made his way towards Gellert. He glanced uneasily towards where the duo had left, asking Gellert, “Who had been that man? He does not strike me as normal.”

In response, Gellert told him, “He is neither scammer nor wizard. He is as real as they come.”

Holly passed a gigantic, glass tank filled with water. Inside, a creature writhed, the containment being too small for it to swim freely. Its skin was covered in scales, and fins sprouted from its legs, conjoining into one tailfin. There were more than just humans being sold here, thought Holly, but the in-human too. Elves, monsters, and… she spied a human-esqe figure covered in fur, with a mouth shaped like a snout. Wolfmen?

These were different from what she normally saw. They were unusual, and likely brought from all over the world. As she walked passed them, her chains clinked and chafed her skin. Holly felt her heart sink, wondering whether this was for the better or not. She had not been wanted at home, and now… now all she wanted was a place to return to.

This man – this strange, snake-like man – who was he to pay so much for her? Holly did not know the currency which they used, but if it was as expensive as which they made it out to be, then he must have paid a good deal for her. Why? Was she… was she truly worth it?

An almost fish-like, serpent shaped creature came up to Holly, then, floating by her face. It nudged her cheek, and warmth seeped into her being once again. This… whatever it was, had such kind eyes. Holly stroked its back, careful of its webbed wings.

“Hey! Look over there!” Holly could not help but eavesdrop. “Isn’t that…”

“No, it cannot be… He rarely ever comes to the market.”

“That Slay Vega…”

Slay Vega, thought Holly, repeating the title over and over in her head. Were they referring to her buyer? Her?

“As I thought,” said her buyer, breaking through her thought. “You can see… that.” Was he talking to her?

“Huh?” said Holly, checking behind her just in case he really was speaking to someone else. She saw no one. “Do you… Do you mean me?”

“You are the only one I am with right now, are you not?” said her buyer, assuaging her worries. He looked to her, or she thought he did, for his hood was still covering his face. “What is your name?” he asked, but it did not sound like a question.

“Holly,” she told him, her veil falling to her shoulders. “Holly Lily Potter. That’s my name.”

Opening the door to another room, her buyer turned back to her, pulling back his own hood. Holly took in his features once more, then noted his lack of hair. Red eyes, unfeeling, but maybe just closed off, fell on her.

“My name is Lord Voldemort. You shall refer to me as either My Lord or Master,” he said, and the warmth that had settled over Holly vanished. She could hear her heart thud in her head, blood rushing. As soon as it came, the panic ended. Everything was cold once again. Just like before, when…

“Stop,” ordered Lord Voldemort, her… her master. He looked at her with annoyance, and Holly wondered whether this would be as torturous as she imagined. What had she thought? She had been sold, sold by her relatives, sold to an auction, sold as a slave. Why had she ever thought she could be happier?

“You are thinking too much. You will call me master not out of some perverse gratification, but because I will be your teacher – and you, my apprentice.” He reached out, extending his Birch fingered hand. Holly looked to it, then his face. Then, she realized he meant for her to shake his hand. Awkwardly, Holly took his hand in hers, and they shook.

“It seems that you have the ability to see,” he said. To see? Did he mean… “You are gifted with a luck rare for your kind,” her master told her.

Gifted… with luck…

“I refuse to take her in!” said her aunt, Petunia Dursley. She was the sister to her mother, but shared nothing with her in appearance. Where her mother had been beautiful, with flowing red hair and bright green eyes, Petunia was long-necked and horse-like. She had thin, blonde hair that didn’t look nearly as soft as her mother’s had been, and her eyes were blue, nowhere near the green which Holly shared with her mother.

“But sending her to a facility…” said Petunia, whispering harshly to her husband, Vernon Dursley. He was nothing like Petunia, with his rotund waist and piggish eyes. Holly looked away when his gaze landed on her. “… the reputation…”

“There’s not a drop of inheritance, right? That girl is a bearer of misfortune.”

“I heard she’s just like my sister,” sneered her aunt, continuing despite Holly being able to hear her. “Talking to herself, acting strangely… a freak, is what she is.”

“Even so…”

“Anyway, I don’t want to take in that… thing.”

Nobody wanted her.

“I heard your parents gave you up,” said Piers, a ratty boy with an even worse personality. Beside him, Dudley, her cousin, snorted. He was just like his father, fat with squinty eyes; but his coloring was all his mother’s – blonde hair and blue, watery eyes.

“Nope,” he said, smiling as though he was about to crush Holly’s already dead heart. “Her mother committed suicide. Left her all by herself,” he laughed. Then, he said, “Her father, though… I heard he did leave her. Took her brother and left. Her mother couldn’t take it and killed herself.”

“Doesn’t make no difference.” Piers kicked up some dirt, getting it in Holly’s face. He laughed, and Dudley joined in. “She’s still an orphan.” Then, “That means they don’t want you, right?”

“…nothing,” said Holly, shoulders quaking, “Nothing was ever good! Not even once! Don’t you dare –!” A spindly hand fell on her head, fingers running through her hair.

“Then,” said Lord Voldemort, gazing down at her with his burning eyes, “How about… Lord Voldemort make you feel grateful?”

Grateful?

“Wha—what?”

“Practically speaking, you are troubling me if you continue in this depressed state,” Lord Voldemort stated matter-of-factly. “Dolls may be moldable, but I paid a fortune.” A hint of a smile played on his thin lips. “It ought to be something prodigious.”

“Er – excuse me?” Had he just called her a doll? And prodigious? Her?

“Close your eyes,” ordered Lord Voldemort, “and stay close to me.” He pulled Holly to his side, ignoring her protests, before saying, “If your eyes are temporally blinded, do not say I did not warn you.”

Beneath their feet, vines began to rise up, black and thorned. They swirled around, rising up, just as Lord Voldemort began to rise as well, taking Holly with him. The vines surrounded them, and then the soft voice of her master spoke with unveiled power:

  _“Nettles in the shadows_

_A wheel of Hollies_

_Ten-folds and twenty-folds_

_Weaves the spider’s thread of the branch to the nest to the branch.”_

Holly snapped her eyes closed, but it was too late. She balled her hands into fists and rubbed at her eyes, blinking blurrily. Spots of light danced in her vision.

“I warned you, did I not?” said Lord Voldemort. “May you learn to follow my advice,” he muttered, almost exasperatedly. Holly startled when he began to walk off, leaving her where she was. Her hand rose in an aborted movement, a _wait!_ on her lips.

The house before her was beautiful. It could more aptly be described as a manor, seeing how big it was. Vines creeped up the walls, and paneled windows glinted in the sun’s light. A tree swayed in the window, close but not quite touching the side of the house. There were many trees, in fact, and more than enough plant life to suggest the house was settled in the middle of a forest.

Lord Voldemort stopped, and Holly bumped into his back, apologizing. “This is my house,” he said, looking at Holly from the corner of his eye. “And from this moment forward, it is yours as well.”

“Where… Where is this?” asked Holly, feeling unsure. “How did we get here?” The air felt cleaner than she last thought it was. It felt almost like… almost like home.

“We are in the West of London, a city in the corner of England,” he said, bluntly.

“England?!” exclaimed Holly. “We’re in England? London, no less!” She brought her hands up, holding her head. “We were just in Germany!” He turned to her then, ignoring her outbursts, calmly raising one hand. His cloak sleeve fell, resting at the crook of his elbow. The rest of his arm was just as pale and emaciated as the rest of him, from what she could see. A shirt sleeve reached his wrist, and beneath that, a holster of sorts.

His Birch-finger grazed the shackle around her throat, featherlight and unobtrusive. Then, it was gone – crumbled into nothing. The ash was swept away with the wind, and… Holly was free. “Those are unnecessary now,” he said, as though he hadn’t just destroyed her binding chains with the touch of a finger. “You are the apprentice of a sorcerer. Subservience is unfitting for one such as yourself.”

“Apprentice?” asked Holly, finally able to find her voice. “Sorcerer?”

“A title that is endangered,” he told her, eyes roving over her. “You are in need of a bath.” Holly looked down, taking note of her overlarge shirt, stained with dirt and grime. She nodded, agreeing.

“I welcome you as my apprentice, dearest child of the night…

No…

… Holly…”

* * *

 

“NO! I can do it myself!” Holly gripped her shirt as though it were a lifeline, refusing to let go of it. Lord Voldemort, however, was unbending. He yanked the cloth from her grip, pulling the shirt completely off her. “I know enough to bathe alone!” Holly shouted, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. She covered her chest with her arms, neck flushing red.

“You do not know how to use the utilities properly,” her master told her, grimacing at the state of her shirt. “I will wash you.” He reached forth, and Holly cried out in anguish.

Once she was settled in the herb-infused waters, Lord Voldemort left the washroom, but only after advising her to wash up properly lest she wanted to be thoroughly cleaned by him. Holly sunk beneath the surface, face burning from more than just the hot water. He had seen everything…

Despite the discomfiture of the situation, Holly found the room to be quite beautiful. The walls were tiled, with patterns occasionally cropping up. The bath, too, was very calming – what her master had put in the water, it smelled nice. Holly rested her chin on her knees, soaking up the warmth of the water. Steam rose in pockets, beading across her face.

She hadn’t expected to be able to take a proper bath…

_“If you ever want to cast away your life… Why not try and entrust it to someone that truly deserves you?”_

“Oh dear ~!” said a voice with ethereal quality, startling Holly out of her reminiscing. “Just when I thought something smells appetizing! Isn’t it a cute human girl ~!” A small face peered down at Holly, sclera black with a slit pupil. Her ears were pointed and teeth sharp, and antenna sprung from her forehead. Feathered wings sprouted from her back, and her legs appeared almost bird-like, with talons instead of feet. Most noticeable of all, she wore no clothes.

“A fairy?” asked Holly, taking note of the three, tiny beings that had snuck up on her. The one that had spoken to her flew close to her outstretched palm, head resting in her hands.

“Mhm ~!” she said, smiling puckishly. “Your blasé reaction is fresh. Well, I suppose it must be typical for you, since you can see.” The fairy flew up, tilting her head. “We are ‘fairies’ if we address ourselves with the human word. However, you shouldn’t refer to us with such an ungainly word ~”

“That’s right! ‘Neighbor’ or ‘good friend’ are much more likeable!”

“Young lady, this isn’t your first time seeing a fairy, yes?”

“Recently,” sighed the first, who had originally addressed Holly, “Those who can see us are declining in number. Ol’ snakeface must see something in you, if he decided to take you underwing ~!” she giggled, and Holly balked. Ol’ snakeface?

“We’re pretty happy nowadays, now that those who can see us are almost all gone ~!” she continued. “Witches and Wizards, even sorcerers and magi used to be all over the place… but now –,”

“Holly,” hissed her master, sounding eerily like the snake which he resembled. “Do I need to come in there?” Scrambling for a towel, Holly answered back.

“No! There’s no need! I’m fine. I’ll be out in a second.” Once she had left the tub, and wrapped the towel around herself, Holly looked back. The fairies were nowhere to be seen.

“For the time being,” said Lord Voldemort, after Holly had dressed and been brought to the sitting room, “You should eat and drink.” Across the coffee table, all sorts of delicious food were laid out. Sandwiches, tea, scones, treacle tart, Yorkshire pudding, and a goblet of peculiar orange juice were just to name a few. Her master noticed her gaze, and said, “That is pumpkin juice. It is popular amongst magicals.”

Holly reached out for the goblet, taking a sip for herself. She paused, eyes widening. It tasted… familiar. “I think I’ve had this before,” she told him, seemingly surprised. “How odd…” Lord Voldemort did not question her, and she was thankful for that. This was the first time she had felt so comfortable in someone else’s home before.

“Excuse me,” she said, pausing in her eating. Lord Voldemort looked to her, unreadable as usual. “Ah, I – Just now, there were some fairies in the bathroom,” she told him, stumbling over her words. She was sure that if he had eyebrows, one of them would have quirked.

“The aerials?” he questioned, and Holly nodded, thinking he may be referring to their ability to fly. “They likely came to greet you. Their sort is sensitive to new things.”

“I… see,” Holly said, eyes averting. She refrained from biting at her lip, but the effort was for naught.

“If you have questions, do not keep yourself from asking them,” her master told her, resting his head on his hand. He looked regal despite this, even when relaxing into his chair. “You are my apprentice now, and I will see to it that you learn all that you can and then more.”

He… didn’t mind her asking questions?

Holly swallowed, digesting this information. Then, she asked him, “Is it true that you’re a sorcerer?” To this, he did not immediately respond, but instead held out his hand. Holly watched, curious, as the ostensibly empty cage creaked open, and a clawed foot appeared atop his hand out of thin air. With it, a body of flame also appeared.

“Yes,” he answered simply. The bird of flame was perched atop his hand, then took flight, returning to its cage. “She is a rare kind of phoenix,” explained Lord Voldemort. “When my wand first broke, I thought I had lost it permanently. That is how wands are. However, mine did not remain broken. No, it was consumed by its own flame, originating from the phoenix feather within it.” He paused, meeting Holly’s eyes, and the fire within them seemed realer than ever.

“She was born from that flame,” he told her. “Her name is Inanna. I was able to recraft my wand thanks to her. As my apprentice, you shall receive a wand soon, too.”

A wand? Like the ones used by witches in the fairytales? Or the wizards of storybooks? More importantly… “What do you mean by ‘apprentice’?” Her master’s eyes narrowed, but Holly did not feel as though she were in any danger.

“I dislike repeating myself. I am a sorcerer. To complicate matters, it appears I am respected in these circles.”

“Appears?” asked Holly, confused as to how one could ‘appear’ respected.

“Do not interrupt,” he reprimanded her. “I do not involve myself with those beneath me,” he told her. “Because of the decline in Witches and Wizards, and the previous dispute between magicals, we are in an incurable shortage of youths, and those with power are coveted. Depending on the situation, solicitation from the public and human trafficking are accepted.”

“Like me,” she said, when he didn’t go on. He nodded.

“Like you. Occasionally, there are children with magical powers, typically offspring from other magicals. There are three types of magicals – Purebloods, born from two magicals with magical parents; Halfbloods, who may have one non-magical parent and one magical, or two magical parents with non-magical grandparents; and Mudbloods, who are birthed to non-magicals. A newer term for Mudbloods is Freshblood, because they have been cropping up far more often than their counterparts these days.”

“Mister Grindelwald said that I was a Halfblood,” said Holly, shifting her feet. “Is that –?”

“That is a topic for another time,” said Lord Voldemort. “As a Slay Vega, you are of the minority. I was particularly fortunate to find you.” Holly didn’t know how to feel about this, so instead she asked a question she had been meaning to ask for quite some time.

“What is a Slay Vega, exactly? I was called that at the auction, too…”

Lord Voldemort paused, clasping his hands together in thought. Eventually, he answered her. “A Slay Vega is comparable to a queen bee. You are… no, you are capable of intriguing anything, and capturing it. From the beginning, you were able to see fairies and the mystic. That is a rare ability indeed, but furthermore so your ability to ensnare them.” He paused, allowing her to draw up imagery of what he was telling her. Holly thought back to the fairies which she had earlier met, and the other strange creatures she had met as a child.

“Those are the worker bees that are attracted to the queen bee, whether she is capable of seeing it or not. For the queen bees who cannot see, these are the carriers of both fortune and misfortune.”

“…misfortune?”

Her master sent her a sly glance. “What they may deem as kindness and goodwill for the human may not always end up so. Nonetheless, being favored means help will always be at hand. It is an important quality, because it is necessary to borrow magic from them for Slay Vega.”

“But not others? Like you?” asked Holly, eyeing her master. Was he somehow different from her? Was everyone different from her? No, was she different from everyone else?

“Witches and Wizards have magical cores which they can draw magic from. You have one, too; however, it is connected to outside lay lines, and therefore you utilize all magic, not just your own.” He paused. “I can grant you a way to fix that.” And then, “I am sure you will be a powerful sorceress.”

“Not a witch?” asked Holly, confused over the multitude of titles. Why couldn’t they just use one?

“No,” said Lord Voldemort. “A sorceress is far more powerful. You shall see. There is talent within you, and I will hone it. Because of this,” he paused, seeming reluctant, “I do not intend to order you around. I wish to make you an equal to myself, not a servant.”

“Then, does that not mean I have a right to deny becoming a sorceress?” asked Holly, although she did not think she wanted to say no. His offer truly was tempting. To be powerful on her own…

Her master paused, jaw ticking with the force he gritted his teeth. “There are plenty of other paths you can pursue. However, to become a sorceress would top them all. I want nothing less for you…” He stopped, then, realizing he said more than he had intended to. Shaking his head, he gave in, admitting to his thoughts. “You are already like family to me, Holly.” Standing, he ran his hand through her hair like he had done earlier that day. Had it really only been a few hours since then?

“Family…” Holly murmured as Lord Voldemort left, returning with something. From behind her, he draped a necklace over her head, fixing the clasp behind her neck. She looked down, taking in the silver locket, with an S shaped like a snake emblemized on the front. Her master began to speak.

“This is a cursed locket,” he explained. “I am giving it to you both for safe keeping and to protect you. Do not lose it.” His tone told Holly that the necklace was especially sacred to him, and she vowed then and there to take care of it. If it meant so much to him… if he… if family…

“It seems we have passed a lot of time talking,” he said, standing back. Holly got to her feet, brushing off her pants. “Good night for today.”

Holly collapsed into her bed, stretching her limbs. She was slightly surprised to find her master had procured her a bed. The sheets were soft, and the pillow smelled so nice… it reminded her of the tea which she had drank earlier – refreshing and a bit bitter. Somehow like the smell of a field. Perhaps it was an herb?

She decided that her thoughts were going nowhere, and would much rather sleep. Just as she was drifting off, however, a tapping sound came from the window. Holly blinked hers eyes open blurrily, looking around. Where had the tapping come from? Was Lord Voldemort knocking at her door?

The tapping came yet again, but this time a voice followed it. “Holly. Holly!” There was the fairy from earlier, leaning up against her window. Holly rose from her bed and opened the window, curious.

“You’re the one from earlier,” she said, surprised. “’Miss Neighbor’.” That was the name they preferred, was it not? That and… good friend?

“That’s right ~! Want to join us on a nighttime stroll?” asked the fairy. “This area has a very nice mountain ~!” A stroll? At night? Holly thought about it, thinking of how pretty the grounds had been, and those were just the ones surrounding the house. What would her master think, however?

“But,” said Holly, feeling more than a little hesitant. The fairy read her worries, and winked knowingly.

“A little while won’t harm you. Have a stroll, feel a little tired, and then sleep soundly ~! Sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

“Yea…” said Holly, nodding slowly. “I’ll just need to tell my –,” she refused to call him master in front of others. That would be more than embarrassing, no matter if he hadn’t meant it in that way. “My – My Lord. Lord Voldemort.” As Holly made to leave, the fairy grabbed her shirt sleeve.

“Oh, no, no, no. That won’t be necessary! It’s just a quick stroll. You’ll be back in no time. Ol’ snakeface won’t even know you’re gone.” Seeing that Holly was still over the fence, the fairy floated back, calling out, “Come on!”

“Well,” said Holly, “I suppose a little while couldn’t hurt.” She smiled lightly, and the fairy grinned back.

“What a helpless child,” commented Lord Voldemort, watching from his window as Holly made way into the forest. “A Slay Vega should not be out in the dark field, however… whether it appears harmless or not, does not mean you cannot be fooled by how it looks.” Shrugging on his cloak, Lord Voldemort continued, “I suppose it shall be a fine lesson.”

In the forest, Holly’s eyes caught the trails of light that were left by the fairies. “Somehow… it’s bright,” she said, looking over it with fascination. It stood out starkly against the night’s darkness, like ribbons of starlight trailing behind.

“Oh, so you can see those too ~!” said the fairy. “That’s the trace of us passing by,” she explained. “There’s no pattern, though. So, it could belong to those playing on the mountain, or those coming and going from the faewild ~!” Waiting for Holly to catch up, she continued, “There are many of us in this land, but even more in the faewild. Like humans, some live alone, and others as couples with children ~!”

“Wow,” said Holly, at a loss for words. She seemed to be learning so much these days. Day? It really only had been one day…

“Say, Holly, where do you come from?” The fairy’s head tilted. “You look like a native, but you can’t always be sure with humans!” She laughed, as if she had just told a funny joke – except Holly didn’t know what it was.

“I’m,” she paused, thinking over her answer. “I was born in England, but My Lord bought me in Germany.” That had been a strange time. Germany was far different than she had ever imagined. Not that she had thought about it much before her time there.

“Germany?” quested the fairy, the word coming off her tongue fresh and unused.

“It’s… a country, not too far from England. It’s across the ocean, passed the Netherlands.” Holly refrained from saying more, as the fairy seemed to alight with understanding. She snapped her fingers, grinning at Holly.

“Deutschland,” she exclaimed, nodding to herself. “I know some of my kind that love Deutschland. As a whole, we stay mostly in Europe; we have for millennia ~!” The fairy paused. “What about your family, Holly?”

Her family…

“I have none,” she answered. “My mother died, and my father left us when I was young, taking my brother with him. I don’t remember a lot about them, but I think my brother was a year older than me. I… I was looked after by my relatives.”

“Were these people kind to you?”

Holly looked away, remembering the damning voice of her aunt, “… a freak, is what she is.”

“No,” Holly told her, blinking rapidly. “They weren’t very kind at all. If they had been,” she said, voice cracking, “Then I may not be here right now.”

Unnoticed by Holly, the fairy smirked.

In the bushes, and through the copse, a rustling could be heard. Fairy trails weaved in and out of the trees, and Holly realized just how far they had come. She pulled her cloak in, wrapping it around herself.

“Hey,” she said, “We’ve walked for quite some time, haven’t we? If we head back now, I won’t be late…” The fairy tugged on her sleeve, pulling Holly’s attention back to her.

“It’s fine, it’s fine ~!” she chirped, and Holly frowned. It really wasn’t, not if her master found she had been out without his knowledge… “It’s very fine ~!” Holly paused, feeling as though something was wrong.

Very, very wrong.

“I –,” she tried to pull away, but the fairy refused to let go. No, her grip grew tighter. Holly began to struggle, panic rising. “My Lord will –,”

“You don’t need to worry about him, anymore ~!” she giggled. “Not ever again ~!”

“Wha—What?”

“You won’t ever have to go back, now.”

Holly felt her stomach drop.

“We can’t stop now! After going through all that trouble to fool ol’ snakeface, we have to lead you to our land! Otherwise, the others will be very upset with me.” She smiled, tugging on Holly’s sleeve yet again, leading her further into the forest. “Don’t worry, living there will be far easier than here ~!”

“What do you mean?” asked Holly, feeling lost. They reached a clearing, and the fairy led her up to a glowing rock.

“Ah, perfect timing ~!” the fairy said, twirling in the air. “From here on out, it’s the faewild. You’ll love it there, I’m certain. It’s a fun and exciting world, you’ll see…”

Stairs, bright to the point of blinding, lit like the fairy trails and stars above, descended into the rock formation.

“Shall we go now?”

“I’m –,” Holly jerked from the fairy’s hold, gritting her teeth. “I’m going back.” She spun around, marching off in the direction which they came from.

“Aw,” said the fairy, as though her plan was still going strong. “Where are you heading back to?” Holly stopped, feet hesitating. She didn’t look back went she answered.

“Home,” she said.

The ghost touch of multiple hands found their way down her arms, her waist, her sides… arms wound around her, and they most certainly were not her own.

“I thought you said you didn’t have a family? That you were all alone? How can you have a home if you have no family? There’s no one waiting for you, Holly…”

The fairy rose up, arms outstretched and inviting. The full moon glowed brilliantly behind her, and she said, “Shall we live with joy and amusement? Join us!”

That’s… that’s right. There’s no one… No one at all waiting for her.

Her father and brother… gone, left… Her mother… dead… left her behind… and her relatives… they never wanted her…

But…

Her hand reached out, close to taking the fairy’s waiting grasp.

But –

Cold, perhaps unfeeling but maybe just guarded, and so tall… A man, wrapped in a cloak spun like the darkness itself to enshroud him, taller than humanly possible… pale, gaunt, with piano fingers… Birch fingers… Red eyes, like a fire burning from within… snakelike visage, and whispering voice…

… family…

Holly grabbed her own wrist, stopping herself from taking the fairy’s hand.

“…Holly? What’s wrong?” The fairy’s head tilted, looking confused. She had to be strong. She had to resist.

“I can’t go,” she told her. “I must go back.” Her grip around her arm tightened, nails digging into her skin. Blood welled where her fingers dug in.

“And why would that be?” asked the fairy. “There is no reason for you to go back to that house. Is it because you were bought with money? If so, then you needn’t worry –,”

“No.”

Holly smiled.

Not once had she been told she was welcome to stay. Not once had she ever felt comfortable in another’s home. But her master… her Lord… her teacher, her buyer, Lord Voldemort –

He had called her family.

Holly didn’t care if he thought of her as a toy, a conquest to train, or something to be thrown away when she didn’t meet his expectations. Because… even if only that one time… he thought of her as family.

And that was all she needed.

“It seems as though my apprentice has chosen,” spoke the whispering voice of her Lord. From out of the shadows, he appeared, draping a skeletal arm around Holly’s shoulders.

“My – My Lord!”

Holly was shocked. When had Lord Voldemort arrived? Had he always been there, watching her every move? Was he… Was he disappointed?

The fairy grimaced, teeth barred. “Tom,” she said, snarling. “How did you find this place?”

Her master’s hand found her necklace, lifting it up. “I wouldn’t let my puppy go without a leash, would I?” he smirked, finding amusement in how the fairy cursed and Holly balked. A leash? Then the locket was some sort of – sort of collar?

…Why didn’t that bother her as much as it should have?

Lord Voldemort continued. “This place reeks of magic. I would have been able to find it even without help. I am a sorcerer, after all.” His red eyes narrowed. “I am the Dark Lord, am I not?” The fairy recoiled, flying back. “Now begone. If you bother Lord Voldemort or what is his again, then I shall feed you to the salamanders.” He paused, pensive, then grinned malevolently. “Or perhaps to Nagini. She does enjoy a good friend every now and then.”

The fairy leapt away, casting a glance back. “I wonder if you can protect our dearest child of the night… Our scarlet Holly…”

Just as the light began to fade from the rock formation, and the entrance to the faewild closed, Holly heard Lord Voldemort say, “That is precisely my intention.”

“You can always change your mind; remember that, Holly ~!”

Holly let out a sigh of relief when she could not hear the voice of the fairy any longer.

“Holly.”

She was going to be scolded. She shouldn’t have –

In a familiar gesture, her master’s hand came down on her head, fingers running through her hair. Holly stilled, not expecting the gentle movement. His long, dexterous fingers weaved through her messy tresses, both cold and warm to the touch. Holly… Holly liked it.

“This was a learning experience,” he told her, not stopping his motions. “For millennia, humans have been tricked by the sweet words of their kind. It is easy to fall for their wiles, but I know you are above that.”

He believed in her. He had hope – no, he was certain that she could do better. It should have filled her with unease, with anxiety over not being able to meet his expectations. To disappoint him. But…

“I’m sorry,” she said with feeling. It made her unbearably happy that he believed in her. So very, very happy.

Her Lord looked at her with his usual unreadable stare, and Holly nearly smiled at the sight. He was… he was growing on her. Even his guarded demeanor. She was surprised, then, when he pulled her into a hug. It was warm, and more than a little stiff, but nice.

“You will learn,” he told her. “Despite having the sight, you are not cautious in the least. How very… Gryffindor of you. No self-preservation whatsoever.” He sighed then, looping his arm underneath Holly. Her ponderings of what a Gryffindor was were halted by the sudden displacement of her feet on the ground.

“Wha—!” Holly gasped, clutching tightly at her master’s thin arm. “What are you doing?!” He was holding her in his arms, and Holly was surprised he could with how thin he was.

“I cannot trust you to not lose your way. Like this, I will not lose you. Let us head home,” he told her, his last words budding warmth in Holly’s chest. Home.

“Yes,” she smiled, for once truly happy.

Lord Voldemort then took notice of the cuts along her arm, from where she had dug her nails in. “When we return, that shall be healed.” Healed? He must be referring to magic, then, thought Holly. “It would not do, after all,” he continued, “for my future wife to have scars.”

“I see…” said Holly. Then, with a tilt of her head, “Huh? Wife? Whose wife?” Had he mentioned this before? Who was he…

Her master’s face was carefully blank. “I must not have told you.” Holly felt as though he had not forgotten, but instead had waited for a moment such as this. “The obvious reason was to make you my apprentice, however…”

His face came close to hers, so that they were nearly touching, nearly kissing – and his burning eyes were focused solely on her. Holly would have swallowed if she had not been frozen stiff. He grabbed her arm, Birch fingers dancing up and down her wrist. Her pulse was fluttering beneath his touch.

“I plan to make you my bride.”

Holly’s eyes were wide, unerringly green even in the dark of the night.

“…What?”

_This slight warmth, touching upon despair… This is the beginning for those two._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A side project to help get my creative juices flowing. I'm a big fan of The Ancient Magus' Bride series, and i thought that it fit so well with a HP AU. As this is just a side project (for now) updates will be random. I'm following the plot fairly closely right now, with a few diversions, but eventually the story will divert into my own take on the story. Also, there will be elements from Harry Potter, such as magic and creatures and terms; while a lot of magic will also remain from The Ancient Magus' Bride, such as the spell from the first chap and Slay Vega. I've got some of the plot planned out, but it's vague at best. I hope you enjoy this crossover as much as i do. Surprisingly, i think this may be the first (i couldn't find any, but if you can, link me to them so i can read them) but i hope this spawns a bunch more, 'cause this au is great.


	2. One Today is Worth Two Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holly meets the maid of the house. She takes a trip with her Lord to go shopping. They meet some old acquaintances...

_This is an ephemeral fragment of memory that floats between night and dawn._

“To what kind of person will you be sold to?” asked Mister Grindelwald. His brows were raised. “I thought you had no interest.” Holly, looking to him out of the corner of her eye, folded her hands in her lap. The seats were not uncomfortable, but Holly found the experience of flying in an airplane to be… strange.

Turning away, she replied, “I’m no good with pain. I thought I might prepare myself ahead of time if it would be anything like living with my relatives.” Surprisingly, Mister Grindelwald laughed. It was more of a chuckle than anything, but a laugh nonetheless. Holly had not thought the cold man was capable of such an action.

“That’s a fine attitude,” he remarked, lips twitching. “You will be fine… Anyone willing to invest the amount you will sell for will not treat you badly. There’s no worry of being like how your… relatives did.” His eyes were shards of ice. “Ah,” he said, returning to his disinterested self. “Forgive my importance. I forgot that you do not care for life or death.”

Holly did not. She only wanted out, to not have to rely upon herself… To have someone else care for her. She was sick of… of…

(An empty home with no one to greet her.)

…everything.

“How do you know I’ll sell for a high price?” she asked instead. The man seemed so sure that she would, but Holly was skeptical… why would she – of all people – sell for such a lucrative price? Why would she… of all people… be wanted?

“You’ll come to understand… sooner or later.”

_The current faint –_

_dim glow of emotion._

Holly woke to morning light filtering onto her bed, the sheets scattered about, and her body curled in on itself. Morning, she realized. It was morning. It had only been a dream. A dream of a memory…

_“Why don’t you entrust yourself to someone who desires you?”_

Tall, dark, and burning… but so, so cold…

That’s right. She was bought by her Lord – her Master. Lord Voldemort. Holly sat up, stretched, and raked her fingers through her hair. It had tangled in the night, but it was no match for her fervent combing…

Arms, emaciated and warm, wrapped around her… the whispering voice of her Lord just a space away from her lips. “…I plan to make you my bride…”

Was she to be his apprentice, or his bride? Which should she pursue, if she had a choice at all? Was he giving her a choice in the matter?

…Did Holly care?

A knock at the door stirred her from her thoughts. Holly turned to it, sheets still pooled at her waist and hair a mess. It was not her Master that she saw at the door, however. It was a woman, with silken hair the color of ivory, and eyes a shade of pale pink. She donned a ruffled headpiece, that looped around her chin, tied with a perfect bow. Despite the warmth of the house, she wore a petticoat atop her dress, which was also layered.

Holly could not help but think the woman was beautiful – no, stunning. She was elegance embodied. Perhaps her Lord had sent her to wake Holly? She followed her from her bedroom and was led to Lord Voldemort, who rose from his seat.

Her Master nodded to the woman, who bowed her head. He turned to Holly, then, and greeted her. “Good morning, Holly.”

“Good morning, My – My Lord.” She still had yet to become accustomed to the form of address. ‘Master’ was another matter entirely… “Who was that person?” Holly asked, shaking herself from her devolving thoughts.

“My familiar, Nagini,” answered Lord Voldemort. “She is a Naga, a type of ‘neighbor’ that transform into a great snake. Nagini works in place of a house elf, which are a type of brownie employed by most magicals. Brownies aid in tasks around the household, and do not appreciate payment.” He leveled a heavy stare on Holly. “Freshbloods do not understand this. They assume the brownies are enslaved, when truthfully, they enjoy work. Gifting clothes or other such payments are insulting to their kind.”

“…I see,” said Holly. “I’ll remember not to do that.” Her Lord nodded, appearing satisfied with her response. “Is that a letter?” she asked, peering at the parchment left upon his desk. As soon as she spoke, the parchment curled and shredded, reforming into an avian shape. It lifted up and took flight out the open window, leaving Holly shocked.

Lord Voldemort looked down at her, Holly at his side. “A small errand for an acquaintance,” he told her. “You have been asleep for two days. How much do you recall?” Two days? She had slept for that long? “You are likely tired from straining yourself.”

Did he… care? Her Master had bought her for quite the sum, and he had only shown hospitality towards her. Was it too early for Holly to think that she could trust him? He said he would look after her… that she was family… but did that exempt him from being a bad person?

Nagini, the silken haired neighbor, was serving them food and drinks. Had she been the one to cook for her… two days ago? Had she truly slept two whole days? She nodded gratefully when Nagini set her bowl of porridge down in front of her. It looked amazing, and smelled delicious. Holly blew the steaming food, raising her spoon to her mouth.

“—Holly, you have only just woken up,” her Lord was saying, and Holly snapped to attention. “However, let us prepare for our honeymoon.”

The porridge dripped from her spoon, plopping into the bowl. Holly stared at her Master, wide-eyed, thinking that only this man, Lord Voldemort, could throw her for a loop.

“Huh?”

“I was… jesting, when I mentioned the honeymoon,” Lord Voldemort said as he led Holly into town. He was wearing his usual black cloak, hood lifted. Holly suspected that it was because his… eccentric features would not be taken well by the residents of the town. “Since we are shopping, I thought you might like to meet my acquaintances, as you are my apprentice.”

Holly had taken him at his word when he had… joked about their honeymoon. It was hard to tell when the man was joking, as Holly had a hard time reading his expressions – or lack thereof. Lord Voldemort was a notoriously stone-faced person, and although Holly thought herself as one of the few could maybe read him, she still found herself lost at times. He was just so guarded…

Turning back to face the man of her thoughts, Holly’s eyes caught something that –

“Er, what?”

It was her Master, black cloak and Birch – piano, no longer Birch – fingers, and pale skin… but he wasn’t quite as pale, nor nearly as tall as she knew him to be. His face was softer, but sharper in other places, with his cheeks high and his nose chiseled. He had a nose. It was… nice looking. And his jaw was defined, with very little to no stubble marring it. Holly looked up, meeting his burning –

Not red eyes. They were dark, like the hair that curled and framed his face. Perfectly coifed and not a strand out of place… dark hair, dark eyes, and pale skin… like he had come straight out of a fairytale. The real question was whether it was one of Grimm’s or not.

“What,” stuttered Holly, “What happened to you? I mean – you don’t look bad, nor did you before – but…” She felt an unbidden rise up her neck. “It is you, right? I mean – My Lord?”

“Non-magicals can rationalize my state of dress, however –,” his voice was stronger, deeper, smooth, “– my usual visage will attract unwanted attention.” Holly nodded, unable to get her throat to work. Her lips felt oddly dry. Then, as if the universe thought this was not enough, her Master reached out and grabbed her hands, letting her palms cup his face. “Even the physiology has been changed. You will learn this, too, come time.”

He dropped her hands and they fell to Holly’s sides. “It’s… odd,” she said, “To see you like this. I am used to your normal face.” Her Lord blinked, dark eyes swirling with some unnamed emotion.

“Many prefer this face,” he told her, raking his gaze over her. Holly refused to shiver. “I am not particularly fond of it. It is… It reminds me of less pleasant memories.” Holly did not pry, knowing that if he wished to tell her, he would without prompting. Her Lord was pleased by this. “Come along,” he said, taking her hand in his. If Holly’s heartrate sped up, it was not commented upon.

The streets were lined with various shops cobbled with bricks and stone, and as they passed them, Holly felt the urge to run her fingers along the walls. Her Master’s hand held hers tight, however, dissuading any thoughts of letting go.

The stopped momentarily in front of store, her Lord’s hand dropping from hers and falling to his side. “This is the shop I am familiar with,” he told her, reaching for the door. “You can find nearly any tool needed here.” Any? That was quite the statement, especially coming from Lord Voldemort. Holly felt she knew this man, despite the short time being acquainted with him. Her Lord was not one to exaggerate.

Holly nodded in thanks when he allowed her to enter first. How… gentlemanly of him. Lord Voldemort wasted no time in following in after, swiftly moving ahead of her. The inside of the shop was quant enough, lined with bookcases that nearly reached the ceiling and not a customer in sight.

“Who’s there?” a woman’s voice harshly barked, rounding the corner. She was gorgeous, in the way of a vogue model, with voluptuous curves and mature features. She had a hint of… madness to her, though, thought Holly. Sloe eyed with wild, black hair that curled and went every which way. She was stunning.

“Oh,” she said, breathing out the word. “My Lord…” her head fell forward. Lord Voldemort waved a hand, and she rose from her slight bow. “My Lord,” she repeated, dark eyes shining with devotion. “What brings you out today?” the woman – the shop owner? – asked, shaking herself from her… eccentric reaction.

“I want you to prepare the tools this girl will use,” said Lord Voldemort, one hand coming to rest on the junction between Holly’s shoulder blades. Holly fidgeted, disliking the sudden attention. The woman brushed her hair from her face, roving a keen eye over her.

“Oh yes,” she said. “She has the qualities of a witch; but something… something is different.” Her brow drew tight and her lips puckered. “This girl…”

“Yes,” said Lord Voldemort, drawing Holly close, his breath fanning hot against Holly’s ear. “My girl. I made her my apprentice three days ago.”

“App—,” she floundered with her jaw, “Apprentice?!” There was astonishment, which Holly could understand, but there was also an underlying jealousy which burned behind her eyes.

“Bella,” snapped her Master, sensing the woman’s encroaching temper. She startled, drawing herself back in. Lord Voldemort’s eyes remained narrow and burning with a hint of their true red. “I can take my business elsewhere.”

“That – That won’t be necessary, My L—sir Riddle,” she corrected. The woman – Bella, thought Holly, thinking of what her Master had called the woman – took a few calming breaths, running her hands down her sides. “I was simply reminded of times past.” She shook her head. “And how might I help you?”

“I dislike repeating myself,” said Lord Voldemort, looking bored with the events. “I am here not for myself, but my apprentice.”

“Apprentice, hmm…” Holly was once again the focus of Bella’s roving gaze. “And where did you procure this girl? Through some questionable fashion?” Holly crossed brought her arms close, not liking the turn of the conversation.

“I bought her with clean money,” her Master replied, as though that was not damning in of itself. The blatant way in which he had so easily said it, too…  

“Bought her?” repeated Bella, sharply. “No morals at all,” she said, shaking her head in a way that could only be described as fond. Holly felt unsettled. She continued. “That’s horrid to hear, though. The child trafficking has been escalating in recent years. I’ll need to ensure Delphi knows the importance of…”

A strange expression came over Bella’s face. Holly was a bit disturbed by the woman’s behavior – one moment she was on a tangent about this, and the next, her attention was on something else. Was she… mentally unstable?

“Why in the world would My Lord go out and buy a young girl?” she muttered to herself. “How unusual.” Bella turned to face Holly, an array of emotions brimming in her gaze. “Young lady,” she said, sounding unlike the woman who had earlier been ready to rage. “Has –,” a pause, “Has sir Riddle done anything untoward?”

“Untoward?” parroted Holly, blinking. Bella’s arms folded, a glower forming on her face.

“Has he done anything weird to you?”

…Weird?

“Bella,” said her Master, turning on her. “I would not –,”

“Does being made to call him Master, having my clothes torn off, being washed, and proposed to count as weird?” asked Holly, setting her mug of tea in her lap. Her Lord certainly deserved this.

“Riddle!”

“Oh my,” said a man, having come around from the same direction Bella had arrived. He was tall, with dark hair, and looked vaguely amused. “I should have expected this,” he said, shaking his head. “Bella,” he called, ceasing the fight that had broken out. “You know you shouldn’t react this way. What did he do to rile you up this time?”

“Rodolphus!” exclaimed Bella, running up to the man and embracing him. She looked around him, then cupped his face. “Where is Delphi? Is she alright?”

“Everything is fine, Bella…” he sighed. “You are in a frenzy. What has you worked up? Talking will relieve the stress.” She pouted at his words, but had substantially calmed from earlier. Lord Voldemort cleared his throat.

“Good morning, Rodolphus,” he greeted, brushing off his robes. “How is the young Delphini?” Bella bristled in the man’s arms, face pulling into a snarl.

“Don’t you dare go near my daughter, Riddle! I’ll have you flayed alive if you think of touching her in that way –!”

“Bella! Dear, calm yourself,” soothed Rodolphus as best he could. “What is this all about? Bella? Lord Slytherin?” He turned to look at the each of them.

Lord Slytherin? Was he perhaps referring to her Lord? Holly thought he might be, as he had faced him when saying it, but Holly had not heard that term of address yet. Slytherin? Was her Master’s name not Lord Voldemort, but something else? Why had Bella called him Sir Riddle, and the fairies Tom?

“Bella took my apprentice’s jesting too seriously,” he explained, and Holly dearly wished to argue but a sharp glance from her Lord had her thinking otherwise. “Bella, I assure you, I have not been indecent with Holly. Yes, we are engaged, but you must understand –,”

“She’s a child!”

Holly was fifteen. She didn’t think she was _that_ young.

Lord Voldemort’s expression shuddered and blanked. His aura filled the room, dark and magnificent. It was powerful, heady, and dark… Bella and Rodolphus stilled, shoulders tensing. “I have my reasons,” he said. “Lord Voldemort is not to be questioned.”

“Of—Of course, My Lord,” said Bella, head fallen. At her side, Rodolphus had his head bowed similarly. They deferred to her Master with the same title he had given her to call him… ‘My Lord’… Just who were these acquaintances?

“Allow us a moment,” murmured Rodolphus, taking his wife to the back room. Lord Voldemort seemed busy with something else, and left the room, leaving Holly to herself. She took this moment to really absorb her surroundings. On a work desk, a machine was left to be tinkered with. Cords hung from it, and a few bolts appeared to not be fully screwed in. There were crystals of all shapes and colors, and miscellaneous curios. Dolls, too, and life size ones at that…

What sort of shop was this? The woman, Bella, hadn’t seemed too bad a person – but she was also a bit on the crazy side. The man had seemed a bit more stable, if not cold…

“Apologies,” muttered Bella, returning without Rodolphus. “I was overwhelmed to learn Sir Riddle took on an apprentice. He hadn’t been willing… before.” She pursed her lips. “Where did he go? The next room over? Shame,” was muttered under her breath. “Was he being honest about the engagement? It is… hard to tell with him at times.”

Lord Voldemort was a peculiar man. Holly wasn’t all too sure, but he seemed the sort to take enjoyment in leading on others. That was a bit cruel of her to assume, though.

A shimmering, serpent-like neighbor flew by, and Holly realized that there were dozens of them in the shop. They gathered around tools and the fairies seemed to really enjoy the jewelry. Was it the magic in the air?

“What kind of shop is this?” she asked Bella, who had once again lost track of her thought process. “And who exactly are you?”

“Hmm?” she asked, slipping into a sing-song tone of voice. She twirled on her heel, turning to face Holly. “Oh, that’s right! I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Bellatrix Lestrange.” Grinning widely, she let her wand fall into her hand, spinning it around. “Pureblood witch and technician of the Magus Craft.”

“Magus Craft?” quested Holly, unfamiliar with the term.

“The production of tools and weapons with magic. Knife making, creating crystals for magical usage, enchantments, charms – I do it all. Of course, my husband, Rodolphus, helps with some –,”

“Mum?”

At the doorway, a young girl peered out. She had the same hair as Rodolphus, dark and sleek, but had Bellatrix’s face and eyes. It was no guess whose daughter this was.

“Delphi,” cooed Bellatrix, “You’re supposed to stay in your room when there are customers.” Holly realized, then, what she had seen in Bellatrix’s expression earlier – motherly protectiveness.

“You promised to come watch after my training, though!” whined Delphini, pouting exactly how her mother had. Bellatrix put her foot down.

“Stay inside. Lord – Lord Slytherin is here on business.” Delphini quieted. “Behave.” With that, the girl bounded off, returning to wherever she came from. Bellatrix watched her leave with fondness and amusement.

“She’s not well disciplined at all, and it irks my mother to no end. Rodolphus has spoiled her,” she laughed, and goodness, that was a cackle.

“What did she mean by ‘training’?” Was she a witch like her mother? And her father… was he a wizard?

“All ickle witches and wizards need magical training,” said Bellatrix, unnoticing of Holly’s predicament. Another neighbor had wrapped itself around her shoulder’s, eerily reminiscent of an axolotl in appearance. It nudged her chin, and Holly fought with it to get it to settle down.

“What determines whether you’re a witch or not?” she asked, wrangling the neighbor into sitting in her lap. Bellatrix took a seat on a stool she dragged out.

“My Lord hasn’t told you yet?” she asked, yet again slipping into the ‘My Lord’. Bellatrix didn’t seem to notice her term of address. “Hmm… Well, there’s three types of magic: Light, Grey, and Dark. Different factions of magicals have banded together based on these.” Holly nodded, showing she was listening. “The Light side believe in mingling with non-magicals, or muggles as some call them. I think scum is much more fitting,” she laughed, and it wasn’t very nice.

“Light magic uses spells, a combination of science and magic. Dark magic is to utilize raw magic – ‘miracles’ brought about from borrowing magic from fairies, spirits and ghosts, or demons. Neighbors, in essence.”

“Miracles?”

Bellatrix grinned darkly. “Wandless magic. Light wizards need their wands to perform spells, but Dark witches and wizards do not need them. Their spells are able to rewrite the laws of nature… we borrow raw power that does this for us.” She gave an example, palm extending. Flames erupted, floating just above her skin.

“Wandless magic is harder to control than spells – what is it?”

“Ah,” said Holly, feeling a bit embarrassed, “What about Grey?”

“Grey?” said Bellatrix. “Right… right! Grey magic is utilizing the inborn magic within oneself. This can be done through many different means: wands, spells, rituals, foci – the list goes on. However, it’s not quite as powerful as Dark magic in terms of potency, unless the witch or wizard has the same amount of natural magic as a neighbor, which is unheard of. Why, the Dark Lord –,”

“Bellatrix,” warned Rodolphus, who was leaning against the doorway. Holly startled, not having heard him arrive. “You are rambling.” She blinked, closing her mouth. Holly thought maybe she was about to say something she wasn’t supposed to hear. Was it about her Lord?

“Dark magic is complicated. It’s best described as using someone else’s arms and legs. It feels like you can do anything, anything at all. You just don’t know how.” Bellatrix rubbed her arms, face pinched. Rodolphus spoke.

“If your ambition clouds your reason, you could end up biting off more than you can chew.” He looked pointedly at Bellatrix. “The consequences of trying something beyond your capabilities…” Pulling back her sleeves, Bellatrix displayed her arms. There were glittering crystals running up and down her forearms.

“This can happen,” she said, grimacing. “It was during my training…”

Rodolphus face Holly. “Learn from this. Don’t make the same mistakes. Bella was affected in more than just physical appearance. Her mind…”

“My mind is fine!” she suddenly shouted. “There’s nothing…” Rodolphus sighed wearily.

“What we’re trying to tell you is to study before attempting. Magic is not easy, and continuing under the misconception that it is will only end up hurting you. It should be taken seriously.” He told Holly, expression solemn. If it was as dangerous as they made it out to be, then why was her Master not teaching her these things?

Holly had been taught nothing. Her Lord had not fully explained magic to her, nor how their society works. It seemed as though he was waiting for her to make a move, but Holly didn’t know what to do.

“Am I,” said Holly, drawing their attention, “Am I also able to use magic?” Looks of surprise came over them. Rodolphus looked to Bellatrix, who shrugged and turned away.

“If Lord Slytherin – excuse me – Sir Riddle took you as his apprentice, then you must have some measure of talent,” answered Rodolphus. “Would you –,”

“Would you like to try some?” asked Bellatrix, bouncing out of her seat. Her expression was excited, and her entire demeanor different from the moment before. She was positively vibrating with energy. In an instant, a neighbor had appeared by her side, droplets of water pooling around them.

“Hello,” greeted the neighbor, bobbing in a curtsey.

“This is my familiar, Narcissa. She’s a type of water fairy – a Vodanoi. Isn’t that right, Cissy?” The neighbor’s expression soured before smoothing out. She nodded. “Cissy, lend her some of your power. It’s time to do some magic!”

Already? But… she wasn’t ready! Holly didn’t know how to do any of this; what if she messed up, and hurt herself? Or worse, hurt either of them?

“I’ve never done magic before,” she told her, attempting to dissuade the woman. Bellatrix waved her off, and Holly swore she could see a measure of dark amusement in Rodolphus’ expression.

“Everyone has their first time,” she excused. “Here. This is the stone that we use to practice enchantments. Go on!” She wasn’t going to explain?

“How am I –?”

“Really, you are supposed to use this over a magic circle,” said Rodolphus, moving over to Holly, “But for now this will be fine.” He pressed his palm over Holly’s eyes. “Wrap it in your hands. Yes, just like that. Now, disrupt the natural order through your will. Create your desired shape.” Holly began to close her eyes. Disrupt. “It can be anything. Try your favorite flower.”

“This crystal was made by crystalizing a high temperature solvent with high pressure,” chimed in Bellatrix. “Think of it like this: the air is the hot water, you are the pressure, and within that, the crystal is developing.”

It wasn’t bad imagery. They were both trying to help her…

Holly wondered… What was her favorite flower…?

Bellatrix was the first to notice when her crystal sprouted buds. They came off in barely an inch of crystal, but they didn’t stop. The crystal continued to grow, surprising Rodolphus into stepping back a few paces. They both watched in awe as flowers erupted from the crystal, all by Holly’s will.

Her favorite flower…

When…

… Where…

“—Look at that, Holly,” said her mother, holding her tight against her chest. Red hair and soft voice. Warm. “It’s a flower garden,” she said. “It’s beautiful.”

Heads of red flowers, with thin petals. Yellow centers and black seeds…

“It’s beautiful… They look like…”

“…Look like—,”

_“Holly!”_

A cold, pale hand was gripping her wrist. The fingers were long, abnormally long, and Holly could think was Birch fingers.

“…My Lord?” asked Holly, her head being tilted back by Lord Voldemort’s hand. Through his fingers, she could make out very little.

“Do not interfere with my teaching, Bellatrix,” said Lord Voldemort, his voice low but full of promise. “There is reason in all of my actions whether I decide to share them with you or not. The same goes for you, Rodolphus. I expected better.”

His hand slowly retracted from Holly’s face, and she gasped. At her feet, there were dozens, no, hundreds of crystal flowers. Poppies.

“Is magic… really this amazing?” breathed Holly, stunned. She felt… powerful.

“No,” cut in Bellatrix, plucking one of the flowers. “Even magic has its limits. Riddle, what is this?” Holly thought she might be coming to understand Bellatrix’s quirks: when she was angry with Lord Voldemort, she referred to him as ‘Riddle’; when she was not in the right state of mind, she used ‘My Lord’; when she was aware and rational, she called him by ‘Sir Riddle’. Holly suspected that Riddle was her Lord’s chosen alias, and Lord Slytherin… was a title. One that was well known.

“What is she?” asked Rodolphus, inspecting the flower in his wife’s hand. Their sudden change in demeanor had Holly spinning. Had she done something wrong?

Lord Voldemort decided to answer. “…She is a Slay Vega.” In response, Rodolphus’ shoulders stiffened and Bellatrix’s eyes widened. Realization and understanding dawned in her eyes.

“I see,” she said, clipped. “That’s why, then.” Turning away, she continued, “Normally, there’s no way an apprentice could be capable of that. A Slay Vega…”

“You will both keep this quiet,” commanded Lord Voldemort. They nodded. He turned to Holly. “You needn’t be insecure,” he told her, one hand falling on her head, fingers running through her hair. “Slay Vega are like a large sponge… absorbing magic from their surroundings and gathering it in their bodies. They can see things that are otherwise not normally seen because this power accumulates near their eyes and brain.”

“However,” he said, touch still gentle, “They cannot help but stockpile. The sheer amount of magic held in their bodies flows out in tremendous waves at even the slightest use.” Her flowers… that’s why they had come out in such abundance. “Your excess magic was what allowed us to warp directly from Germany to England. Apparition on that scale would not only have been strenuous, but would have fired off a number of alarms. I settled for the better option.”

“Narcissa,” hissed Bellatrix, attempting to keep her voice low. “Why didn’t you tell me?” The neighbor sniffed, turning away.

“Do not blame your familiar,” said Lord Voldemort.

“Riddle…”

“They cannot be held responsible. Holly is a special existence to them, a honey trap…”

“I,” said Holly, looking at her palms, “I don’t remember absorbing anything.” She would have noticed that, wouldn’t she have? To take in that much magic…

“That is part of being a Slay Vega, Holly. You would not have noticed. Think of it as… being poor at regulating.” That was certainly true. If this was the result…

“I’m sorry for the mess,” said Holly, bowing her head. Were the Lestrange’s mad at her? Surely, they should be. She had covered their floors in crystal flowers.

“There’s no reason for you to apologize!” said Bellatrix, springing up behind Holly. She leaned against back, hands on Holly’s shoulders. “Just look! It’s beautiful.”

“Holly, would you bring us the broom? It’s in the next room over,” said Rodolphus, pointing her the way. Holly left to find the cleaning tool. When she was finally out of hearing range, the three began conversing.

“Are certain that is what you want, Lord Slytherin?” asked Rodolphus, holding his wife close. Bellatrix rested her head against the crook of neck. She was understandably irritated.

“Such a waste,” remarked Bellatrix, twirling a curl around her finger. “I can understand, though. If Delphi…”

“—It’ll cost you extra…”

“…This is the merchandise we have in stock,” said Bellatrix, showing the bundle of goods to Holly. “The knife is made of steel sea rock, strengthened by the water of the moon crystal. A cloak weaved from the feathers of a thunder bird, and a belt made from the skin of Glashtyn… I’m also adding in the string of steel Ivy and a loupe made of Fluorspar.”

It looked remarkably expensive. Was her Lord really going to spend this much money on her?

“I need to tweak it a bit, wait outside in the stall,” said Bellatrix, throwing back her hair. “Take that with you,” she waved, gesturing to the box she had Holly carrying for her. Holly nodded.

“Okay,” she said. When Bellatrix began her work, Holly stuck by the door and peered in. She threaded her needle, neighbors gathering at her sides. It was mesmerizing to watch, and Holly was so caught up in the act that she was noticed at the door by Narcissa. The neighbor sent her a secretive smile, placing a finger to her lips. Holly nodded, smiling herself, mimicking the action. she backed away, moving to the stall.

Lord Voldemort was looking through an ancient tome when she came upon him. “Is it finished?” he asked, turning to Holly. He set the book down.

“Not yet,” said Holly. “She still needs to adjust it.” That was what she had said, at least. Holly wondered what adjustments needed to be made. She was more curious, however, on… “Is Bellatrix an old acquaintance of yours?”

“I knew her father, Cygnus Black, and a few of her relatives.” He paused. “The Blacks are a well-known family of wizards and witches. They are Noble and Most Ancient family, and are renowned as Dark and pureblooded. Bellatrix… was born with the traits of a sorceress. It’s a trait not uncommon to the Blacks, being an old and dark family. Because of this, she could not follow in her father nor mother’s steps. She had to find her own brand of magic.”

A sorceress… “Um,” said Holly, face twitching slightly. “So… you and Bellatrix,” she said, hedging around the topic. Lord Voldemort did not pick up on what she was insinuating. She would have to be blunt, then. “Were you two lovers?”

His face was startlingly blank. “Lovers…?” Holly shifted.

“She acts sort of… weird around you,” she told him, uncomfortable. “As though there’s some sort of history between you two. She’s married, I know, but…”

Lord Voldemort brought a hand up to his face, looking weary. “No,” he said. “She is not, nor ever has been, my… lover. I have known Bellatrix since she was a child. At one point, she dearly wanted to become my apprentice, and tried everything she could to sway me. I refused.”

That would explain a lot, thought Holly. The way Bellatrix acted, her changing temperament towards Lord Voldemort, and the strange way she reacted to Holly. She was… jealous. Not of Holly’s engagement to Lord Voldemort, but her apprenticeship.

“Oh,” said Holly. “That’s good.” At her Master’s quirked brow – hairless as it was – Holly backtracked. “I mean – it wouldn’t have been good if she was your mistress, or something!”

“What are you both talking about?!” yelled Bellatrix, rounding the corner. She appeared to be quite livid.

“Holly,” began Lord Voldemort, breaking the silence, which had settled on their trek back home. Holly looked to him, listening. “Do you like poppies?”

Did she like poppies? They were beautiful, but… “I think I made them not because I like them, but because I remembered them. A long time ago, I went to a flower field with my mother…”

Lord Voldemort’s disinterested did not change, even when he asked, “What happened to your parents? Are they dead, or did they discard you?” The way in which he asked was pitiless, not even attempting to work around her feelings. It was fresh.

“How straight-forward,” she remarked, not criticizing his method. Her Lord’s hand found its way to the small of her back.

“The events of the past cannot change that you are here, now,” he told her, his other hand cupping her cheek. His words were callous, and so very him. Holly found comfort in that.

“I… have no clue what my father is doing, or where he is. He took my brother with him when he left.” She couldn’t remember much more than a fading recollection of what he looked like. Holly could not even recall her brother. Neville, his name was. She thinks he was only a year older than her, but she wasn’t sure.

“My mother,” she said, looking down. “She died. Right in front of me.” A moment’s pause. She turned back to Lord Voldemort with a smile. “It’s something of the past.”

“Lord Slytherin!” Lord Voldemort turned to the man that had chased them down. “I thought you would be at home; I told you I was coming by!”

“I have my own business to take care of.”

The man was dressed in clergy robes, a cross hanging from his neck. His sandy blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, and he was smiling kindly. There was a pale scar that went from his brow to his chin, but it did not make him look any more dangerous. No, Holly felt this man was strangely familiar…

“…Your housemaid does not like me, so she would not let me in. Oh, you must be his new apprentice. Holly, correct?” He extended his gloved hand. “Hi. My name is Lupin, Remus Lupin. I came here today to ask you two for a small favor.

_This smiling priest… what is the ‘favor’ of which he speaks—_


	3. author's note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> important author's note - please read

So, I'm planning to rewrite this fic. I already have a new story line imagined and some summaries/ideas written down, but no drafts ready yet. If you all are interested in that, leave me a comment. I'd like to know if you all would want me to post the rewritten (and wayyy different) version of this story on here - as in replace all the chapters with the new ones, or create a new and separate fic (it's gonna be a series. why do i always write series'?). So, feedback on that would be nice. If no one answers, I'll do as I like (meaning I'll replace all these chapters with the new ones and change the title and tags and so on...)

 

If none of this makes any sense, it's because I'm half asleep while writing this. I'll probably look at this tomorrow and go, "WTF? Did I actually think that was a good idea to write?"

 

(I promise to make up my long absence with some good writing. Probably. Most likely. I won't post anything until I finish so WOOP another long, agonizing wait.)


	4. new author's note

So I've decided to simply leave this fic up (I know how it feels for an author to take down a fic you liked even if it's written terribly or discontinued) and add a new chapter with the info on the rewrite. All the old chapters (bar these two author notes) will remain. I'll delete these author notes when the new fic is published and the post a chapter redirecting to the rewrite/etc. The other reason I chose not to post the new fic here is because the rewrite isn't really a rewrite, per say - it's more of just another fic inspired by the Ancient Magus Bride/Harry Potter mix. So if you enjoyed this fic (I'm happy you did!) you may not necessarily like the new one I'm working on. It will have elements that I was planning to use in this fic, but the overall tone is different. I'm going for more of a realistic spin on the story, with proper Harry Potter characterizations instead of AMB-lifted convos and plot lines. If that makes sense.

 

If you didn't read any of that, I pretty much just said that the new fic will be posted separately (i'll notify you), it's a bit darker and less ooc, and I love you guys <3

 

Also thank you for your feedback; I would have responded to your comments individually but I am exhausted & overworked so maybe I'll do that after my long-awaited nap...


	5. rewritten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the link is below for the new series

[these chains upon me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15088469/chapters/34985609)

i hope you guys enjoy this one as much (and hopefully more than) you did this one <3


End file.
